


the world cannot be seen or touched

by ghoultown



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Deaf Character, Deaf Denial, Deaf Ryan, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Shane, Ryan Bergara Being an Idiot, Shane Madej Being an Idiot, Shane Madej In Love, break ups, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, lovers to friends to lovers again, make ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 20,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoultown/pseuds/ghoultown
Summary: ryan has been dating shane for three years. he's been deaf for two months. shane's voice is the last one he can remember.or, the one where ryan wants to break up with shane and shane wants to make ryan happy





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another rewrite of an old fic but i'm excited to take this in a new direction! lots of chapters, so stay tuned and subscribe if you wish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick author's note::: i wrote this awhile ago when i thought i was all knowing about everything and that i had a complete understanding of everything - including the struggles of someone who has lost their hearing. i am not hard of hearing, and i could not ever understand the implications of suddenly losing my hearing. so please take this with a grain of salt - i do recall doing some research, but please let me know of any inconsistencies !!!! love u - clem

Ryan squinted at the screen. His legs were folded over, sweatpants rubbing against his skin, hair a mess of brown on his head. His fingers shot up to push his glasses further up on his nose as he watched the woman in the video. Her eyes were blue and her hair looked like it would be soft, but the necklace around her neck looked sharp. He tucked his hair behind his ear and placed his hands on his knees. The bed shifted as he moved.

As she began to speak, her hands moved almost in rhythm with her lips. On her left hand was a ring that was just as spiky as her necklace. She adjusted it, pausing in her speech, before picking right back up into the introduction.

"Today, I'm going to teach you some basic ASL, which is American Sign Language. I've got a list here," she leaned off camera and quickly returned with a notebook with what seemed to be a hundred terms written in three, straight lines down the paper, "of the words I'm going to, kind of, um, teach to you."

Ryan snorted in the back of his throat. _Hopefully, she was more fluent in sign language than in her speech,_ he thought. He shook it off quickly. He was in no position to judge.

"I'll just start with the most basic... um..." She flattened her palm, placing it in the middle of her chest and making a circular movement. The word _Please_ appeared on the screen beside her. Ryan paused the video. Slowly, mirroring her movements, Ryan looked down at himself and repeated the movement until it seemed right.

He unpaused the video and watched some more. She closed her fist and held it up for the camera to see, moving it up and down in a nodding movement. _Yes._ She then changed her hand posture into a two-fingered pinch. _No._ She flattened her left hand, curling her right hand and running it along her left palm. _Excuse me._

Ryan pressed his palms to his eyes underneath his glasses. It seemed so pointless. He could read lips. He could speak, he knew what vibrations were normal in his throat. He didn't have many friends these days anyway. As long as Shane could understand him, which he could, things were peachy. He could translate on the few occasions that his old team would visit. Things were fine.

Or, they would be, as soon as the crowd of strange carpenter people in his living room would leave. Which would be soon, if Ryan could help it.

He slipped the glasses off of his nose just as he noticed a shifting in his peripheral. He jumped and turned, his shoulders relaxing and sinking as he saw Shane there.

"Hey, sorry," the man smiled apologetically. His eyes slid from Ryan's face to the laptop on the bed in front of him. "What's that?"

Ryan turned, quicker than lightning, and slammed the computer shut. "Nothing."

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He knew he'd gotten stuck on the 'n' sound again and that it sounded much less sharp than he wanted it to be. But he couldn't change that, not now. That didn't mean he wasn't infuriated by it.

The bed dipped next to him. He felt fingers brush his ear and he pressed his lips together tightly.

The hand disappeared after a moment. Ryan reached behind him and pressed his palm against Shane's chest. He felt the low vibrations and sighed. Why did Shane always insist on speaking when his back was turned? He couldn't read vibrations. He wasn't a miracle worker.

Well, he knew that vibration. That was the "I love you" vibration. He could read that with just his pinky finger.

"I love you too," Ryan whispered, not focusing on the shape and size of his mouth, but Shane knew what he sounded like, it didn't matter. It didn't matter how he lingered on the 'l' and the 'ooh' noises. It didn't matter that he probably sounded ridiculous, or that the phrase itself sounded ridiculous. Shane certainly didn't mind. Or at least, he didn't show that he minded. He reluctantly turned and opened an eye. Shane's shirt was covered in white powder and Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"We're done," Shane hiked a thumb over his shoulder, "with the smoke alarm stuff, anyway. They're comin' back tomorrow to help bring in the new oven with the...what?"

Ryan was glaring at him, now. He didn't trust his mouth to speak when he was angry.

"What?" Shane asked before recognition swept across his face. "Oh."

Ryan tapped his chest with his forefinger five times aggressively. _I can do things myself._ He threw a flat palm toward the open door. _I don't need a new fucking oven to help me._

"Ryan..." Shane sighed, "You've been really interested in... baking, recently. What if you want to make something when I'm gone? How will you know when it's ready?"

Ryan shook his head and tapped his temple with his finger. _I'm smart. I'll figure it out._ He made a face. _I could just buy cookies, anyway._

"I know you're smart." Shane sighed. "You're very smart, Ry, but with the videos we have to shoot--"

Ryan's eyes narrowed. _Don't._

"--I can't be here all the time. Stop looking at me like that." Shane ran a hand through his hair, "I just love you and I want you to be safe."

Ryan shrugged. _I will be. No worries._

The brunette turned back to the computer. He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder, but it quickly retreated and the body on the bed next to him disappeared. The foot he had flung over the side of the bed in his furious silent argument with his boyfriend felt the tremor of a door slamming closed. He opened the laptop again and stared at the woman on the screen.

He wondered what her voice sounded like.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan hated the wake-up alarm Shane had installed two days before. He hated it. It blasted sound and flashed bright lights to wake him up with both vibration and visual stimulation, or that was what the package said. In reality, it was just the worst. It was called Sonic Boom for a reason, he supposed. He would much rather have a regular alarm or one of those watches that vibrated so hard it woke him up. But no. No, Shane had to use all of his money to buy things that made his life a living hell. But, rest assured, it was a safe living hell.

He opened his eyes, grimacing as beams of light hit him right in the eye. He swept his arm across the nightstand, covering the OFF button with his entire palm. Shane didn't sleep in the same room as him anymore. He'd set up an office in the guest room and he'd fall asleep in the mattress there in order to wake up and get to work straight away. He was on leave from actually working at the actual Buzzfeed offices, but there was no doubt that videos in need of editing were piling up. Ryan rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses.

It was 5:30 am. He'd been getting up that early for about five weeks, and he still wasn't quite used to it. Things tasted weird at 5:30 am. The house seemed slightly more haunted, and the air was just slightly heavier. It was dumb. But his favorite show came on at that time, and it only felt real when he was watching it live.

He turned one of the kitchen lights on. He looked through half-closed eyes at the kitchen landscape and grimaced. The pantries were probably barren and he hadn't set foot in a grocery store for a good couple of months. Something twinkled in his periphery; the coffee machine. Coffee would work. Coffee was a good breakfast option.

Ryan wondered if Shane was still asleep. He remembered what Shane's snores sounded like. He could probably put his hand to the ground, he could feel it. He almost did but decided not to. Caffeine was needed to watch his show. Caffeine was needed to make jokes about his deafness.

He stared at the machine for a long time. It was 5:35 by the time he finally decided it would be okay to make coffee by himself. It was so stupid. Of course he could make coffee. He was a grown up. He was able to care for himself.

Ryan carefully placed the cup into the machine and took a step back. If he went to get Shane, it would be so embarrassing. He was stubborn. If he went to get Shane, he'd actually go into hibernation.

An image of himself tripping on an electric cord and spilling hot coffee all over himself, making himself even more of a freak, flashed through his mind. He frowned and glanced toward Shane's room.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. 5:40 am. The show was coming on. He left the light on and the coffee maker plugged in as he sank into his pillow nest on the couch and forced himself to keep his eyes open to read the subtitles and practice reading lips a bit on the way.

The practice of saying out-loud his opinions about the characters was not lost on him. He wished he could still do that, but it was mostly just for the satisfaction of hearing himself say what he wanted to hear. This was a luxury unavailable to him, clearly. Even though Brittney was obviously in love with the handsome doctor in her sanction when he was married with kids. What happened the brash and sassy Brittney from the first season? The character development is rushed and backwards, he lamented.

Before he knew it, his phone was vibrating again. An hour had gone by pretty quickly, but TV drama always made the time go faster. Ryan shifted in place; his legs felt like they were filled with sand. His eyes shot up when the light to his right brightened. He sighed when he saw Shane standing there with his hand resting on the light switch.

"Sorry," Shane said. His eyelids were heavy and Ryan tilted his head. He was glad he hadn't lost his sight. Some things were too satisfying to miss.

Ryan shrugged and pushed himself up from the couch. _It's okay._

Shane stepped further into the kitchen, harsh light over his head making the angles of his face sharper. Ryan was frozen in front of the sofa, just watching him.

The tired man spotted the half-finished coffee process and pointed at the machine. He turned his head so that Ryan could see his lips move, "You wanted to make coffee?"

Ryan nodded and pointed to the TV. _Yeah, but my show came on._

Shane smiled, "I'll make you some."

Ryan smiled back. _Thanks_. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked toward the pantry. _Do we have any food?_

"I do need to go shopping, don't I?"

Ryan made a face. _You think?_

"We can go later today. After we wake up a bit more." Shane noticed Ryan's panicked expression. "I'll drive. No worries. It'll be okay."

Ryan was stiff as a statue, but his stomach was like Jello. _We?_

"Ryan." Shane was in front of him now, his hands on his shoulders. "It's okay. I'll drive carefully."

The brunette's eyes softened slowly. He reached up and placed his hand on the side of Shane's face. He screwed his face up tightly. _You need to shave._

Shane laughed and hugged Ryan to his chest. He was saying something, Ryan could feel it. He figured it was something along the lines of: " _You_ need to shave." Followed by a sigh, cool breath on his neck, and the familiar I Love You vibrations.

Ryan hummed. _I love you too._


	3. Chapter 3

The charm of the grocery store was fully invested in its noise. Without the distractions of kids crying two aisles down, or the rickety shopping cart, or even the frustrating automated voices at the self-checkout counters that gathered near the frozen food freezers, it was just cold in the building. No matter how many times he'd tuck himself into Shane's side, or duck into the chip shelves, his entire body was frozen and with no sound, he couldn't distract himself.

Shane glanced down at Ryan. He opened his mouth but stopped and tapped the brunette's shoulder. He looked up with pleading eyes. "What's wrong?"

Ryan pointed to his arm, riddled with goosebumps. _I'm cold._

The older man rolled his eyes and stopped in the middle of the floor, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and onto Ryan's. "Just ask next time, okay? I don't want you to be cold."

Ryan glared at him, pointing to his ear. _I can't._

"You can find a way," Shane said with a smart smirk. Ryan shook his head and looked away.

Ryan pushed a few of his favorite cereals in the basket. The crunchiest ones. Now that he didn't have to tread carefully around what food to keep in the pantry, as the noise of other people chewing made him sick, he figured it was a nice opportunity to take advantage of his misfortune.

Shane gave him a look but shrugged and pushed the cart further down the tiled floor, the cart wheels catching on themselves and screaming until Shane would push them back into place with the toe of his shoe. Ryan frowned as he saw them scuttle. He kind of missed the rattle. He looked straight ahead as they moved past the towering shelves, moving further toward the front of the shop, toward the parking lot.

  
_He slips into the car. The backseat is chock full of groceries that Shane will probably trash anyway since he's on the damn health food kick. It' s utterly ridiculous. He slams the car door shut and just sits there for a while. This parking lot has a few memories wandering around. Every once in a while they'll bump into the driver side window and it scares the hell out of him. His phone buzzes; Shane is home and waiting for him. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. He can't do this anymore._

  
The cart stopped in front of the shelves that were filled with different flavors of Oreos. They hadn't had junk food in a while, Shane thought. Mostly under the doctors' requests, but Shane figured a little bit wouldn't hurt. Ryan had been acting strangely recently. Maybe spoiling him would make him feel better. Maybe spoiling him would get him to talk again. He hated the silence. Of course, he couldn't even imagine what Ryan felt.

"Do you want this?" Shane asked as he grabbed one of the boxes of cookies. He waited for an answer for a few moments before sighing to himself and turning to grab the brunette's attention, but he was met with an empty space. "Ryan?"

He dropped the cookies into the basket and pushed it along with him as he turned the corner, glancing down each aisle in search of a hiding Ryan. He reached the other side of the store in no time; no trace of Ryan. The panic settled in his ears, but he realized it was no use to make much fuss about it. There was no way he could have wandered far—oh.

Shane left the cart at the opening of the aisle. He took careful steps toward Ryan, who was standing in front of one of the smaller shelves. He moved up behind him, looking over his shoulder to see what he was staring so intently and sadly at. Shane sighed and placed his chin on Ryan's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the waist in a tiny act of comfort.

Ryan sighed and rested his temple against Shane's as he stared at the rows of earbuds and just reminisced about a time when this wouldn't ruin his state of mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Midnight snacks were a bit harder to gauge, now that he was officially locked in silence. He wouldn't know if he dropped a spoon or closed a drawer too loud or something like that. He settled on sitting on the kitchen floor with his hand in a plastic bag full of Cheez-Its. He tried not to move his wrist too much, because the terror associated with an unwanted crinkle of the bag was faintly recognizable in his mind. The feeling of getting caught while sleepily shoving food into your face wasn't lost on him. At least he wouldn't hear Shane scolding him for it.

He rested his head back on the cabinet. All was not well in the kingdom, and he knew that, but it was much harder to understand just how unwell things were, as he couldn't hear people screaming. So how bad could it be? Ryan threw another Cheez-It in the general direction of his face. He leaned forward only to catch it in his mouth. He did.

A few thoughts popped up as he chewed thoughtfully on the floor of his kitchen—of which he was slowly realizing was a big of a safe space, nothing had changed much in that department—and none of which were particularly important. _How loud is Shane snoring right now? How loud is the new smoke alarm? What is Shane dreaming about? If I went into his room and laid with him, would he think less of me?_

By far, the worst side effect to his misfortune was that he couldn't remember things. He couldn't remember the way his voice sounded, even if he knew how to control it. He couldn't remember what the microwave beep sounded like or how his favorite song went, or what accents people had. All of that was lost, the way he interpreted life was completely lost and everything was a silent movie that he didn't want to watch.

The one thing he remembered was Shane's voice.

  
_He almost screamed when Shane's ringtone pierced the air again. He was on his way, damn it. Shane knew that. He'd texted him before he left. He always texted before he went anywhere. That was their deal, their unspoken deal , that every time Ryan stepped out of Shane's sight, he was on a technological leash. The car swerved on the open road when he reached over to grab the phone._

  
He pushed himself off of the floor. He slipped a bit, and he must have made a noise (or several) as Shane ran out of his office/bedroom and into the dim light of the kitchen. His hair was a mess and he hadn't put a shirt on in his panic.

"You okay?" Shane asked. Ryan could imagine the way Shane's voice would crack. His hair flopped down over his forehead.

Ryan stood still but gave a gentle nod and pointed to the box of Cheez-Its on the floor. _Yeah. Hungry._

"Sounded like you were dying," Shane whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You going back to bed soon?"

Ryan looked at his feet and shrugged. _Don't know. Maybe._

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Shane, who was looking at him through slightly more alert eyes. Ryan watched his lips articulate as he spoke, "Will you come to bed with me?"

Ryan gave him a hard stare. It wasn't an answer.

"For me," Shane continued. "Not because I'm worried for you, because I am, but because I miss you."

Ryan pointed to his chest twice. _My bed._ He pointed to Shane's room and made a face. _I don't want to go in there._

"Okay," Shane nodded. He went to kiss Ryan's cheek but Ryan placed a hand over his mouth and Shane receded. "I'll go grab my pillow and be right there."

Ryan nodded and bent down to pick up the box but Shane stopped him and looked in his eyes.

"Whatever is going on between us," Shane said, looking back and forth between Ryan's eyes, "We'll fix it."

Ryan sighed and grabbed the box, patting Shane's face. _Go get your pillow._

"I love you," Shane said before turning and disappearing into his office. Ryan walked slowly to his room, building a wall of pillows halfway down the mattress. He crawled under the covers on his side and closed his eyes. He felt Shane move the pillows between them, felt a pair of arms around his waist and a cold nose on the back of his neck. He didn't push him away, and the vibrations of Shane's chest as he snored practically rocked him to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, he woke up not because of his alarm, but because of Shane's reaction to the alarm. The taller man—an actual adult with a boyfriend, an apartment, and a steady paycheck—scrambled to the top of the mattress, pressing his back flat against the headboard, leaving the sheets and comforters in a pile at the foot of the bed.

Ryan calmly reached over and pressed the OFF button, straining to reach the lamp and let the room fill with calm, orange light. He looked at Shane through gleaming, interested eyes. He hadn't seen Shane this frazzled in awhile. It was refreshing. Nice. New.

"What was that?" Shane asked. He was shaking a bit. Ryan thought about reaching out and taking his hand but decided against it.

"My alarm," Ryan mouthed. He pointed to Shane and raised an eyebrow before mouthing, "You got it for me."

"Jesus," Shane scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at the brunette beside him, "I'm so sorry."

"I can't hear it," Ryan's lips moved, his mouth turning up at the sides, "The lights are a bit much, though."

Shane blushed, "Right."

Ryan shifted so that his arm wasn't pinned under his body and pointed to him, "You did this to yourself."

Shane sighed and smiled tiredly, "Yes. I suppose I did. It's not as loud in the other room." He looked around, toward the window, and back to Ryan, "Did you move things around?"

Ryan pointed to the dresser in the corner, and then to the vent on the ground. _Yes. Was covering up the air._

Shane made a face, "You could have asked me to help."

"You were working," Ryan mouthed with a sympathetic smile. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll tell you next time, though."

"It looks better this way," Shane said thoughtfully. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for awhile. Ryan's eyes were drifting open and shut on their own abandon. Shane was obviously thinking about something. His fingers were playing with the loose strings on his pajama pants. He looked to Ryan, "What time is it?"

Ryan held up five fingers, then three, and made an 'O' with his hand. _5:30._ He thought for a moment and shook his head, reforming the numbers. _Probably 5:40, now._

Shane gaped, "I forget you get up this early sometimes."

Ryan shrugged and have him a shy smile. _Thanks?_

"Might as well get up," Shane said through a long breath. He smiled at Ryan. "You have your show to watch, huh?"

"What are we doing today?" Ryan asked. He was surprised how comfortable he was, personally. He and Shane hadn't shared a bed in a month or two. However long two weeks from the accident was. He had begun to think that the only reason he was with Shane was because his was the only voice he could remember. But that was nonsense. Obviously. Why would he be so comfortable around him, so early in the morning? God knew that was a feat.

"Well," Shane started, grabbing his phone and checking his calendar, "I have a few meetings today, and I have to finish some edits, but that's about it."

Ryan dropped his face into the pillow with a sigh. Well, that comfort was short lived. He lifted a hand and made a shoo motion, _Well, go ahead._

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. Shane looked apologetic. He didn't want to hear it. He rolled over and pushed himself out of the bed. He pointed to the door and then to his eyes. _I have a show to watch._

Shane stood up as well, a bit hazy. He hadn't been getting up this early, so he was delirious but trying to knock himself out of it. "Can I at least sit out there with you while I start them?"

Ryan acted like he was thinking about it. He certainly wasn't going to say no, because that would be mean, but he was seriously considering it. He settled on a cryptic shrug and a pivot out of the room.

Shane's first meeting was at 7 o'clock. He left, blowing a kiss to Ryan (who either didn't notice, or just didn't catch it on purpose), and starting his 15-minute commute via car to the office building that was, at that moment, the bane of both his existence and his relationship, which he had a feeling was hanging on a thread. But that wasn't what he needed to think about while walking into a meeting that would basically give him some insight on whether or not he'd get that promotion he was holding off on telling Ryan about.

There were a few reasons for this, of course. One, being Ryan wasn't a fan of change, especially not now that he'd gone through the biggest change in his life. The job would require him to be there for more hours, but there would be fewer work weeks in total and he'd also get a lot more money. Money for a few more special fix-ups for the apartment, some general things they needed, money for fixing the leaky showerhead. And yes, money for surgery, should Ryan want it. He wasn't a fan of sharp things, either, and the idea of people digging around in his head was probably not on his bucket list. Best case scenario, he'd ask for video footage of it. Old habits would always die hard.

But he needed it, Shane reminded himself as he stepped into the conference room with an arm wrapped around his resume and a fake smile on his face. They both needed it.


	6. Chapter 6

Shane accidentally called Ryan to tell him he was on the way home and it might have ruined Ryan more than he would care to admit. He had to lay on the floor for a while and feel the various slamming of doors beneath him by the two roommates that always managed to argue with each other and make up within seconds. He was jealous. Genuinely jealous. He also missed laughing at the way they yelled at each other. He wondered if it was the laundry, the dishes, or Greta from work.

He finished shaking just as Shane opened the door and caught him on his back, laying on the carpet by the couch and thinking. The taller man knelt beside him and held out a hand to help him up, but Ryan just pulled him down with him. Shane landed with a thud on his back, papers slipping from his grip.

He turned his head in order to see Shane, and sighed. He'd never thought that looking at someone could make him so happy, but also make him feel sick.

"What's wrong?" Shane asked quietly, but he felt like he knew the answer.

Ryan shook his head. _Nothing_. He pointed to Shane's papers that were scattered across the carpet. _How'd it go?_

"I got the promotion," Shane said, though he wasn't smiling as wide as Ryan had thought he would.

The brunette made a face. _What?_   He squinted and pointed at Shane's mouth. _Where's the smile?_

"I just..." Shane rolled over on his belly and pointed at Ryan's ears, "I worry."

Ryan's walls were built and guarded within seconds. He hummed disinterestedly. Shane sighed and pushed Ryan's face to the side, making sure he was paying attention.

"No amount of alarms or new ovens or weird eye contact will keep you safe. You're not used to being deaf yet, and I don't think you ever will be, because it's a disability and—hey, hey, look at me," Shane held Ryan's chin. "Look at me, please. I need you to understand."

"I don't want to understand," Ryan mouthed, his lips tight. "I don't care. Let me go."

"Ryan, if you want them. You know. I know that this transition is taking awhile, and that's understandable. I'm here for you through everything. But there are options."

Ryan glared at him. "How do you know."

"I don't know for certain, but... you know, I've been doing research," Shane said. He slowly receded, removing his hands from Ryan as he realized how dominant his position was. He sat back on his ankles. Ryan leaned on his elbows, blowing strands of hair out of his face. "Cochlear implants are about a hundred thousand in the worst-case scenario, and that's without insurance. With this new deal, I can get that in a few months."

Ryan's lips were pursed. _I don't want it._

"Okay. That's okay, Ryan, but don't you want to check? I can book an appointment at the doctor, see what those options are. Just to know what they are, you know?"

_It isn't a problem._

"Ryan—okay," Shane ran his hands through his hair and down on his face, "I know it isn't a problem. I don't want you to think I want to... to fix you, or something. Okay? You're great and I love you, but I just want you to understand your options."

_I don't want to._

"Ryan-"

"Because this is hard," Ryan said, aloud, startling Shane. His 'S' sounds were still slurred but he must have been thinking on the sentence for awhile because it sounded like his old self. His angry, hearing, functional old self. And it made Shane recoil.

"I know." Shane said quietly. "But--"

"No." Ryan turned his head. He didn't want to see this.

"Ryan," Shane said, practically to himself, before tapping his boyfriend's shoulder to get his attention. "Listen."

"I can't hear you." His voice wavered. He obviously didn't care to shape his mouth anymore. He was too angry. (Or too upset. The line was blurry.)

"If you'd look at me, you'd know what I was saying," Shane said, loudly, just because he could. Ryan pretended like he didn't feel the distant vibrations of someone yelling at him. He hadn't experienced that before. He pretended as though he didn't want to know what Shane was saying.

Shane crawled into his view and held his shoulders.

"Please."

"Please what."

"Research with me. We need to know."

"We?" Ryan's voice was surprised, in a sarcastic way.

"I don't mean like that," Shane's eyes were watery, "I just... Ryan, I can't sit by and watch you deteriorate like this."

"I'm not det-deteri-deter—FUCK." Ryan took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm fine." He took a deep breath, holding it in his chest, before letting a breath out through his nose. "I think we need a break."

Shane blinked. "What?"

"Brea—break. We need a break. You nnneed to go."

Shane blinked again, slower, like he was trying to wake up, like he was trying to catch up to what just happened. To what he just said. To what Ryan just said.

"No, I..." Shane shook his head and pushed himself up onto his knees. "We can fix this."

"You're so obsess-obsessed with fixing this," Ryan said quietly. He paused, getting his thoughts together. "Like I'm a burden."

Shane shook his head, "You're not a burden."

"It seems like I am." Ryan shut his mouth, his jaw tired. He pointed to Shane's office and then to the door. _Get your stuff and then leave._ He slowly flattened his palm, placing it in the middle of his chest and making a circular movement. _Please._


	7. Chapter 7

_He didn't bother to place the phone in the stupid holder on his dash. He didn't bother to change the fact that his seatbelt was digging into his ribcage. He just answered the call and held his phone in his hand, microphone pointed at his mouth, waiting for whatever was so important that Shane couldn't just wait until he got home._

_"I'm on the way home, Shane, what couldn't wait?" Ryan decided to say. It tasted bitter on his tongue, but there was nothing else he thought to say that would accurately start this conversation he'd been thinking on for a few months at that point. How else could he get to the I'M GONNA NEED YOU TO GET YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE, BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS ANYMORE part of the talk? Certainly not by answering with a quiet, dainty, "hello?" At this point, he was known for being sassy._

_"Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."_

_"Well, I'm fine. I'm always fine," Ryan muttered. The steering wheel was straining to the left in his grip and he tugged it back into place. His body jolted to the right. "No need to worry yourself."_

_"I wasn't worried necessarily. You just hadn't been answering my texts."_

_"I said I was coming home, what else do you need? What would make you feel better about my leaving the house for two minutes, or God forbid, thirty?" He swerved again. He was never a good driver. For some reason he was crying, which didn't help his driving skills at all. The lines on the road became fuzzy caterpillars. He brought his hand from the wheel to wipe his eyes. His knee pressed up against the bottom of the wheel to keep it in place for a moment. Ryan rested his wrist, the one holding the phone, against the steering wheel as well. If Shane knew the state he was in, he'd actually have a panic attack._

_"Ryan, are you okay?"_

_He took a deep breath, through his nose. The car made a screeching noise and it made him cringe. "I can't do this."_

_"... What?"_

_"I can't—Hold on, I can't do this while I'm driving, I might actually crash." Ryan glanced up at the rearview mirror. It was about eleven at night on a Monday. No one would be out at this time, he knew that much. He pulled as far to the side as he could on the narrow road and shut his car off, throwing the keys into the passenger seat._

_Out of sight, out of mind. Out of reach._

_The two right tires were in the grass. The other two were slightly to the left of the white line. He didn't know this. Of course he didn’t. How could he, unless he got out of the car to check? How could he have known?_

_"What do you mean, 'you can't do this while you're driving?' Ry, are you... sorry. I... what's happening?"_

_"I'm being safe. Does that make you feel any better?" There was venom. Lots of venom. More than a lethal amount of venom, but Shane was immune at this point. "Is that all this is? You making sure I'm on a leash, and if I get a damn paper cut, I'm shut away and wrapped in gauze. What are you, my mom?"_

_"Maybe it would be better if you, uh... came home, and then we could talk about this..."_

_"When I come home, I want you--"_

_Gone. That's what he was going to say. I WANT YOU GONE. Those words, tough words, angry, venom words and everything would be fine._

_A sideways, glowing snake bite appeared in the rearview mirror, high beams and all. Ryan's right hand dropped the phone. He lunged to grab the keys, but unfortunately, he was close to the bend of the road, and the snake was going 70 on a 35._

_The head of the serpent bunted against the left side of Ryan's Volkswagen at 70 miles an hour. Ryan and his car were jolted, turned at a 47 degree angle, and consequently shoved into the ditch ten feet below the main road._

_Ryan was now in the passenger seat. His eyes were blurred, but there were moments of clarity, like his hazard lights were on. There was a whining in his ears, like a whistle but worse, more unbearable, more ominous. He heard the whirring of his own blood in his head. He heard the screeching of tires, watched the headlights projecting on the trees get brighter and then dimmer, and then disappear completely. His keys were digging into his hip. His own throat was making garbled noises, and he felt something warm running down his chin._

_Over all the pain, the ungodly amount of scorching, stinging pain, he heard one thing._

_"Ry? Baby, are you okay? Can you hear me? Ryan. I'm going to hang up and call an ambulance, I don't care if you're fine. Please answer me."_

_The whine was high-pitched and pulsating and painful._

_And then there was nothing._


	8. Chapter 8

5:30 came around quickly. Quicker than he expected. It felt as though he'd just shut his eyes for a moment when his eyelids were attacked with beams of light. He slammed his palm on the button—which had braille on the top for the visually impaired. He figured it said SNOOZE. It didn't really matter.

He told himself that this was how he was supposed to feel. Empty. Cold. Nothing like he felt yesterday. He told himself that the break was what they needed, that it would make things better when they got back together. Which they would. He had no doubt they would. He loved Shane. He just couldn't stand the circumstances and the way he was being treated. Everything was monitored by him; Ryan felt like he was being surveilled by his own boyfriend, and it was smothering him.

So yes. A break would be good. For both of them, he hoped.

The downside, and he would never admit this to anyone, was that everything suddenly felt dangerous.

The coffee maker had been ominous since two mornings prior, but other problems were coming out of the woodwork. There was a corner of the carpet that was coming loose, and if he were to trip on it, he would smash his forehead on the corner of the TV, which would definitely leave a mark. The kitchen tiles were becoming more slippery by the day, and several of the electrical sockets were practically hanging out of the wall.

However, if he were to tell Shane—or, anyone—about this, it would make him seem like a coward. Or it would make him look like he couldn't care for himself. Which was untrue. And pathetic.

He may have ordered coffee for delivery, though.

And he may have quickly discovered that he had lost contact with all of those he had once considered friends in the past few months. Be it through not-so-accidental ignorance of text messages, his being too tired to get out of the house to join gatherings of his peers, or just... drifting. Drifting, in his relationships, happened often. Had it not been apparent in his current situation.

So, yes. No friends. No boyfriend. Just a big, empty apartment with too many alarms, loose carpeting, and doom at every turn.

Maybe he cried. But that was because of his show. _Caleb didn't deserve Brittney,_ he told himself.

 _Ryan doesn't deserve Shane,_ he told himself.

He turned the TV off before the credits could roll and pulled his laptop onto his chest as he laid on the couch, pulling up the same ASL video he'd been watching half-heartedly for a few days now. With a sigh, he pressed play.

Somewhere across town, in a hotel room with two queen beds and only one person to occupy them, Shane laid on his stomach and cracked open the new ASL book he'd bought at the store just an hour earlier while looking for some way to distract himself. He flicked through the pages, his hand flat and moving in circles on his chest, trying to remember what Ryan had done to him with his hands. The thing that always managed to calm him down.

He stopped and squinted at the page.

"Please," he read aloud, signing it as well. " _Please._ "


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no worries! peter is here to help shane re-evaluate everything. ryan's gonna get his own counterpart in a second.

Shane parked in the open spot closest to the door, right in front of the new building, clean and new. He had always despised messenger bags before, but he had all of his laptops and chargers laid out inside with room to spare, and he figured he could get used to it. He was a stickler for organization. He knew that, yes, but he'd been slightly putting a damper on it due to Ryan's diluted distaste for labelled cabinets and drawers. He felt free, in a way. A sad kind of way.

He opened the car door just enough to kick it open, pushed himself out of the car, grabbed his bag and closed the door with his hip. Made him feel bad ass. Which was not common now.

The building was tall. And beige. There were about a million windows on the side of the building he could see, but he imagined there were plenty more out of his eyeline. That was all he could say about the place, though. He quickly fell into the crowd of flannels and bright colors that were swarming toward the entrance and he would have smiled about how in-place he felt, had his first thought not been to text Ryan about it.

The lobby smelled like strong cologne. And a bit like Ryan. And the man behind the desk up front had good fashion sense. Like Ryan. He continued to follow the swarm of producers and film editors into an elevator, which played a smooth jazz version of Ryan's favorite classical song, and down a hallway, which was painted Ryan's favorite color of violet, and into a hive-esque room full of cubicles of with a purple trim that Ryan would just love.

He was led to his own cubicle and he began to unpack—he placed his ASL book on the desk to his left, his stylus to the right, tossed a couple packs of gum onto the shelves across from him.

The entire place reeked of memories of Ryan. Purple this, purple that. One man (he thought it was a man, anyway) a few cubicles over had a recognizably high-toned voice. A Lakers Jersey, for whatever reason, was framed on the nearest wall. Every time he shifted in his chair, it would whine, like Ryan would do when he was bored.

The only thing in the entire main room that didn't remind him of anything on the topic of Ryan was a man near the water cooler. A man who was heading straight toward him.

"Hey," the man said before he even stopped walking. He pointed to his yellow nametag, "I'm Peter."

"I'm..." Shane mirrored the man's movement, tapping his own tag, "Shane."

"I couldn't help but notice your, uh..." He pointed around Shane, "...Book."

"This?" Shane picked it up and held it to eye-level, almost afraid that, somehow, the man wasn't even talking to him.

"Yes." From behind his back, the man pulled out his own copy. Shane's mouth was hanging open. "My niece."

Shane's eyes widened. "No way."

"Yes, way." Peter leaned on the divider, "Who's your special person?"

"Boyfriend. Uh... kind of? I don't know," Shane shrugged, feeling a bit idiotic under the stranger's eyes. "But I'm, uh... learning for him. Regardless."

"Huh," Peter looked upset for him. He slipped his hands into his pockets. Shane grimaced and looked down to his feet. "Trouble?"

"Not really. I'm sure everything will get resolved. In no time," Shane nodded, assuring no one but himself. He looked up, "What do you do, here?"

"I'm the lights guy," Peter said, his voice glinting with ironic pride. "But I help out with set design and all that."

"That's fun," Shane said, his voice disinterested. He tapped his fingers against the book in his hands. His shirt was too tight and his lungs felt like they didn't work.

Peter sighed. "I know it's hard when everything's just starting out. But it gets better."

"Uh..." Shane looked around, expecting all eyes to be on them. But there were none. He relaxed. "Nothing's bad with communication, really. Sometimes he doesn't even need to speak, he just points. And I, like... know what he's saying."

"That's a good quality to have." The man nodded.

"I just... I keep... crowding him. You know? I wanna make sure he's safe, but he's... independent."

Peter scoffed. "I get that. My niece practically refused to admit she was different for years."

"How old is your niece?"

"Nine."

Shane covered his face with his hands, smothering a laugh. "What do I do with a twenty-some year old?"

"I figure you've got enough knowledge about him to answer that yourself," Peter smiled. Shane's tension was slightly less heavy. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah. Here's my... card-thing," Shane handed it over. "Thanks."

Peter smiled and nodded, turning and ducking into a cubicle a few feet away.

Shane fell into his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

He was fine. This was good. He was making friends. He hadn't had friends in awhile.


	10. Chapter 10

Ryan let his fingers roam through the cardboard boxes. He wasn't quite sure why he was at the record store. God knows it made no sense. He was just looking, that was all he could do.

He had to get his mind off of Shane somehow. He couldn't stop thinking about how today was his first day on the job and he wasn't there to do all the cute stuff Shane probably needed. He was probably anxious about it, too. Which made Ryan feel like shit.

It was his decision, though, and as soon as he made that decision, he realized that Shane was most likely having a blast without him at his new job with all of his money and time to spend. Fuck.

So, yes, there were too many hazards in his apartment and he had no current friends, so this was the only way he could survive currently. If he died via loose carpet or boiling water, he'd die extra due to embarrassment.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. Part of him was excited, hoping to find Shane standing there with that cute look in his eyes, but instead he turned to see someone completely different—maybe even the opposite of Shane. Full beard, dark hair, gauged ears, pierced nose, arms covered in tattoos. Seemed like he didn't belong in the record store half-full of classics. Seemed like he wasn't the kind of guy to approach Ryan.

"Hey, I was talking to you," he said, his brows furrowed. Not necessarily menacing, but definitely confused.

Ryan almost panicked. He was inclined to, but he took a deep breath and pointed to his ear. _Can't hear._ He made an X with his arms and pointed to his ears again. _Deaf._

"Oh," he nodded before looking around and smiling. He gestured to the building they were standing in, to the boxes full of music that Ryan would never be able to hear again. "What are you doing here, then?"

Ryan pointed to his chest, then to his mouth, forming a wide (fake) smile. _Makes me happy._

"Ah. Same. What do you—or, what did you listen to?"

Ryan grimaced, but pointed to the box he was closest to, full of old Gladice Knight albums that made him think of his grandma, and Springsteen albums that made him think of his Shane. He looked at the other man and made an over-exaggerated face. _The real old shit._

The man smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Ethan."

"Ryan," the brunette replied, out loud, startling the other man. His speech lingered on the R but otherwise, he trusted that it sounded like him.

"Your voice is high," Ethan said.

Ryan grimaced and nodded. _Yeah._

"Anyway. I like the old stuff too," the dark-headed man said, his shoulders slumped and relaxed, "You like Springsteen?"

Ryan nodded. _Yeah._ He held his hand out, parallel to the floor, at hip-level. _Since I was little._ He made a mustache with his fingers. _My dad._ (He hadn't come up with a gesture for boyfriend, so he improvized.)

Ethan smiled. It was wide, but unfamiliar, and Ryan honestly hated it. "Same."

Ryan nodded for just a moment, but it felt so wrong to talk like this to someone else. It had been so long since he'd chatted someone up, and now it was a million times harder than it had been. He was sort of glad that Ethan had been able to carry a short conversation with him, but he needed to plan his night in his head. Maybe watch a sad movie and sleep on the couch. Set the alarm up on the coffee table, and just not care about anything.

He gave Ethan one more smile before turning back to the box and leafing through the records.

He felt a tap on his shoulder again. Ryan turned to Ethan again with a raised eyebrow.

"We have a lot in common."

Ryan tilted his head. He pointed back to the music boxes, _Music..._ He looked around and then shrugged. _What else is there?_

"We can talk about it more over some take out."

Ryan repressed the urge to roll his eyes. But he had nothing else to do, and if someone was there, he wouldn't risk dying prematurely, no matter how much he wanted to.

Ryan shrugged and gave a half-hearted nod. _Sure_. He pulled out his phone out of his pocket and opened a new contact, holding it out to Ethan, who eagerly entered his information.

Ryan texted Ethan his address and held up 5 fingers. _Five o'clock good?_

Ethan smiled and nodded, "Yes."

Cool, Ryan mouthed. He tucked his phone into his pocket and went back to going through the records, biting his tongue.

He was making friends. That was good.

Maybe.


	11. Chapter 11

"I need to tell you..." Shane said, arms full of pillows and dressed out in uncomfortable and tight-fit pajamas, "I'm just on a _break_ with my someone. It isn't permanent."

"I know...?" Peter looked up at him, "I offered for you to stay here, remember?"

"Yeah... Just... so you knew that." He shifted in his stance. He was unhappy, to say the least. "Where do I...?"

"Oh, just beside me," he gestured to the seat next to him. Shane shuffled over and sat.

Nothing in the entire apartment smelled like Ryan's place, and it was off-putting. Like he didn't belong there. But it was much too late to ask to leave; his clothes were somewhere in a washing machine and he'd already said he was fine here. It was just slightly better than a hotel, but it was wrong. It was so wrong.

It wasn't even necessarily relieving to not have to look out for Ryan. He kind of missed having an ear out for noises or sitting in his chair slightly turned so he could easily jump out of it if it was too quiet in the apartment. It was... boring wasn't the right word... it was stuck on the tip of his tongue...

"How'd you get this job, Shane?" Peter looked over at him. It was obvious that a hand-to-leg touch was implied, but Shane looked too out-of-place for it to be casual.

"Worked too much," Shane said with a [forced] scoff. "I was lucky, the office I was in wasn't very pro-active. I was the only one who did my work on time and made early work of editing--"

"Same, here." Peter held up a hand.

Shane squinted at the hand before hesitantly high-fiving him. He hadn't high-fived someone in ages that wasn't ironic, or with Ryan. It had been at least high school. Yikes.

He retrieved his hand and reached into his pocket. Peter smiled at him and asked if he wanted hot chocolate - "No," Shane said, looking at him oddly – before exiting the room.

Shane opened Ryan's contact and went into their messages. He started to scroll up, remember the good times, maybe convince himself to leave, but he noticed the bubble in the bottom left corner. Ryan was typing.

For a long time. A scary long time. Either a long message or he was deleting things he was saying... either way could be good, or really bad. He was hoping it was the former.

But then the bubble disappeared. He knew what was happening—Ryan was doubting himself. He always did that. Especially when they were just friends and he didn't want to bother anyone. If anything, this was the right time to be bothered.

He typed, _what is the sign for "yikes?"_

He waited. The response was almost immediate.

He got a picture.

Shane made a face. _Did you make that?_

Ryan responded after a long wait. _Bought it._

Another pause before Ryan continued typing. _Did you know there's an entire Etsy community of deaf people that just... make stuff? Deaf stuff?_

Shane smiled. _I did not._

Ryan started typing again just as Peter returned into the room.

"What are you smiling at?" He asked, curiously, an amused smile on his face.

"Nothing," Shane said, unconvincingly, tucking his phone back into the pajama pocket.

Unfamiliar was the word. He got it now.


	12. Chapter 12

Ryan extended his fingers and crossed his thumb in front of his palm, moving it from his ear to the air in front of him. _Hello._ He moved the palm of his hand toward his chest. _My._ He used his two fingers on each hand to make an X over his heart. _Name._ He formed the letters _I_ and _S_ and those of his name. _Hello, my name is Ryan._

He let out a long breath and fell back onto the bed. The night before was exhausting. Ethan wouldn't stop talking about things. Eventually, Ryan's eyes hurt and he just closed them. Ethan must have forgotten Ryan couldn't hear him for awhile because he wasn't stopped or tapped. The take out was mediocre, he was definitely not a fan of the man's taste in food, but he smelled vaguely like Shane, like home, and he was more than happy to let the guy sleep on his couch.

But now, he was bored. Bored enough to attempt to learn some basic ASL. Bored enough to do anything to get his mind off of the man on his couch. And nothing was more taxing and time-consuming than ASL. This was what he had learned so far. It was nothing like learning piano. He actually had to make facial expressions at the same time as he was speaking with his hands. He could do it, sure. But he didn't want to, which made it harder.

The light on his phone flashed. Ryan immediately picked it up. There was only one person it could be. But he missed Shane anyway.

Shane had sent him a good morning text. How precious. Ryan sent one back and set his phone back down on the table. It was easy. He didn't even need to think about it.

He settled back into his learning pose, crossing his legs and pressing play on the video he was watching.

The bed dipped behind him and Ryan almost sighed as he turned to look at Ethan, who was looking at the screen, confused.

"What are you doing?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow and pointed to his brain, _Learning._

"Why?" Ethan scrunched up his nose, "I can understand what you're trying to say when you're silent."

Ryan stared at him for awhile. He pointed at the computer, then himself. He made an X with his fingers and pointed at Ethan. _I'm learning for me. Not for you._

Ethan looked at him, a gentle embarrassment radiated from him, but he just shrugged and said, "You still don't need to learn it."

Ethan stood and left the room, his jaw moving, most likely asking where the food is. Ryan didn't answer.

Ryan grabbed his phone and began to type something along the lines of _help. unwanted guest raiding my pantry_ but decided against it. He turned the phone off, turned the brightness down on the laptop, and googled the ASL signs for _get the fuck out of my house._


	13. Chapter 13

Ryan stared at the glass on the kitchen floor from his perch on the counter, overlooking the mayhem he had caused, wondering if it was really that smart to send Ethan out of his house in a fit of rage. Not really rage. But something close. A seething kind of anger, maybe. Enough to kick him out.

But yes, just as he figured, he was useless on his own. He hadn't even heard the machine crash to the ground, but he felt the scalding water and sharp glass hit his ankles, and in seconds, he was up on the counter and frantically brushing his skin off. But that was the end of his plan.

He didn't know where his phone was. Probably in his bedroom. But now he was on an island, surrounded by sharp glass and most likely still hot water and he was unsure as to how he was going to get out of the silly situation he'd gotten into. So, in an empty apartment, he let himself cry in frustration until he couldn't anymore. More importantly, until the water cooled down and he could locate a path to leave the kitchen and get the broom.

Before he could take action, the door swung open and Ryan wanted to scream and tell Ethan to get out, but he didn't. Most importantly because Shane stepped into the apartment.

"Hey, I just needed to get some clothes-- Ryan, what are you doing?"

Ryan looked at him, in awe, the relief crashing into him like a wave and almost knocking him down from his place on the counter. Shane's confusion turned into absolute panic as he looked down to the ground.

"How did this... Are you okay? _Oh, my God._ Are you okay? _Oh, my God._ Ryan?" Shane set the empty bag near the door and half-walked-half-sprinted over, peering over the damage before holding out a hand, "Here, I'll help you down--you're bleeding a little bit! Ryan, why didn't you tell me?"

Ryan threw a mindless hand behind him before gesturing to his position. _My phone's somewhere else. I'm stuck._

"Christ, well... Here," Shane helped him down, letting the very barefoot, very shaken Ryan step on the toes of his shoes. "I'll fix it. It's okay. I'm here."

Ryan was bright red. He sat up on the bathroom sink as Shane cleaned and bandaged all of the cuts and burns on his feet, his lips moving as if he were mumbling under his breath because he knew Ryan couldn't see him from this angle. Nonetheless, it was nice to be with him again. Despite the circumstances.

Shane patted Ryan's leg, a signal that he was done, and Ryan stood up, wobbling a bit. He placed his fingertips to his chin and brought his hand outward. _Thank you._

Shane smiled and brought his right hand up from his chest. _You're welcome._

Ryan stared at him. Something was happening in his chest. Something familiar and very overwhelming.

Shane hiked a thumb over his shoulder, "I should probably grab my stuff. Peter's probably waiting out front still."

The feeling crashed and burned immediately.

Ryan nodded and looked away, face burning for a completely different reason. Who was Peter? He had no reason to be jealous or upset; he was the one who called for this break. Maybe Shane was itching to get out of it. That would make sense. Maybe.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up.

"Unless you want me to stay?" Shane said, probably repeating it, a muted look of hope on his face.

Ryan's eyebrows raised. He mocked Shane's earlier motion, throwing his own thumb over his shoulder before tugging on his shirt collar. _Peter might miss you. You were just supposed to get clothes._

Shane leaned in close. He looked hesitant but seemed to shake it off, kissing Ryan's cheek. The butterflies returned. "This is just a break," Shane assured him, "Not a death sentence. He's just a coworker I'm staying with for the time being, okay?"

Ryan nodded. _Okay._

Shane waited for a moment but then turned to leave. Ryan quickly stopped him, grasping onto Shane's sleeve.

Shane looked over his shoulder. Ryan gave him a look. A _please stay_ look. And Shane couldn't help himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan stretched his arms over his head and pressed the snooze button on the alarm that he had somehow managed to press a few buttons on in order to make the loud sound go away. Shane was hugging onto one of the pillows from the boundary with an arm, his entire body covering the rest of the bed that Ryan wasn't occupying. Snoring, almost shaking the entire bed, but Ryan didn't really care.

It was nice. Things being slightly less than back to normal. Having to call each other buddy but still kissing each other's cheek. It was fine. Comfortable.

And Shane was apparently exhausted from this new friend he made? Peter or something. He was a totally OCD dude who washed his clothes religiously and made Shane sleep on the pull out futon outside of Peter's bedroom in case Shane had a nightmare, which Shane had apparently told him wasn't a problem, to which Peter replied with something about how he was there anyway. It was very embarrassing.

Ryan had made the (silent) comment about how that was how he used to see Shane--a raging OCD nightmare with an affinity for buying things that the person they love would enjoy. Shane made a face at that and said, "You think he loves me?" To which Ryan made an even more exaggerated face and shook his head, pointing to his chest, then to his face, and drew an R in the air with his finger. _I bet he looks at you just like I did when we met._

Shane squinted for a while and nodded. "Yeah. But it's just annoying when he does it."

It felt like they had just gotten together again. Easy to talk again. Out of his mouth, too, as much as he hated it. And it made him feel good because every time he'd open his mouth to speak, Shane's eyes would open wide and he'd kiss his cheek and say how proud he was and... well, Ryan could get used to it. Again.

Shane's phone kept vibrating, though. They both knew they'd have to tell Peter that the previous futon agreement was void, but the phone was on the other arm of the couch and Ryan was practically on top of Shane, pointing at the TV and attempting to explain his show. He had missed several episodes due to Ethan's lack of a sleep schedule and an inability to get Ryan up at 5:30.

"So, Brittney is in love with who?"

"Jason. But also Brad. It's com-mplicated. But they're all doctors. So it's kind of under...understandable."

Shane kissed Ryan's cheek and nodded, "Totally understandable."

Shane's phone buzzed again. Twice. But Shane rested his cheek on Ryan's head and let the brunette rant and would grin to himself when Ryan would mispronounce something and not whine about it.

Back to normal.


	15. Chapter 15

_Five minutes after he had heard loud noises on Ryan's end of the phone, six minutes after the phone call ended, and ten minutes after he was called by the officers that had found his contact under Ryan's Emergency Contacts, Shane was in his car on the highway, speeding with his hands gripped on the wheel, a million thoughts about what could have happened emerging before being pushed away by others about worse things. The officer had asked for Shane's license plate number before he got behind the wheel, just in case someone tried to arrest him. They were very thoughtful, and Shane had given the officer a very rushed and tearful thank you over the phone._

_The hospital entrance and admittance was blurry. His mind was just screaming WHERE IS RYAN and IS HE OKAY as he signed things and stepped through doorways and down long halls and when he got into the room, he was overall thankful that Ryan didn't look as bad as he could have._

_No noticeable gashes on the skin that wasn't obscured by a stiff gown, a few scratches on his cheek and forehead, a few bandages on his arms and a few tubes sprouting from his veins. It was terrible, nonetheless. Ryan would have a fit once he woke up._

_"There's deep trauma in the brain," a voice said behind him. "We predict he'll be out for awhile but there's no guarantee."_

_"What does that mean," Shane said, knowing that it meant Ryan could wake up as a different person than he was a few hours earlier. He just needed to hear it._

_"There's no need to worry, sir." A white coat came into his peripheral but he kept his eyes on Ryan. "Would you like to stay the night? I can bring you a visitor chart."_

_"Yes please," he said, quietly._

_Shane has talked a lot. A lot. The nurses told him that Ryan was able to hear everything he said, that it made a difference. That Ryan might follow the sound of his voice. Away from the light. All of that stuff. The things that made him feel better._

_He said he loved him and that it was going to be okay and that hopefully this would end well and that Ryan would be okay. All of his fears and hopes, things he wanted to do when Ryan woke up._

_Two days later, as Shane sat slumped in a chair, Ryan stirred. He opened his eyes. Rolled onto his left side with his back to Shane before jumping and grasping onto his arm (the one with the I.V.) in pain. He grimaced, not seeming to notice Shane._

_Shane , of course, had noticed Ryan._

_"Oh. Oh, my God. Ryan? You're okay. He's okay!" Shane turned and yelled out the door for the nurse. When he turned back, Ryan was looking over his body in the hospital, seemingly wracking his brain for how he got there. His face fell as he remembered._

_Then Shane shifted, and Ryan jumped again, looking at him with wide eyes._

_"Hey," Shane said quietly._

_Ryan 's eyes went even wider._

_"What? Sorry, if you don't want me to be here, I--"_

_Ryan shook his head. He opened his mouth for a moment before mouthing something._

_"I can't hear you."_


	16. Chapter 16

The day following the cherished reunion, Shane entered his cubicle with a smile that almost hurt. The purples were more vibrant and his chest wasn't aching anymore. They had some things to work out, sure. But Shane couldn't voice how happy he was to ask a question and be met with gestures rather than voices.

He watched Ryan's show with him in the morning, at 5:30, and stayed up until it was time to leave. Ryan was hesitant to let him leave, but Shane kissed his head and said he'd be back for lunch. Ryan's shoulders became less tense and he gave a hesitant wave.

Shane was productive for the first quarter of the day. He worked faster than he had in awhile, probably more efficient than ever, but he couldn't tell. Mostly, he was working toward lunch.

Then Peter appeared. Seemingly out of the blue, peering over the division with curiosity.

Shane didn't notice him for a long time, until Peter spoke up. "How is everything going?"

"Fine, actually!" Shane said, still unable to wipe the grin off of his face, "The break was helpful, I suppose."

"That's wonderful," Peter said aimlessly, pressing his fingertips to the bottom of his jaw and looking off. He glanced back to Shane with a smile, "So, the whole crowding situation is goin' well?"

"Yep," Shane nodded. "I'm cool as a cucumber. Giving space. You know."

Peter leaned in a bit, still so far away. His face was full of concern, "So, what's the plan from here? Now that everything's okay?"

Shane looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, his smile fading slightly, "Well... Ryan has a show he wants to start, but it's hard to read their lips. And the, uh... subtitles are in Arabic, which he hasn't gotten around to learning yet."

Peter nodded slowly, the hands that grasped the ledge of the divider tensing and relaxing. "He's going to learn Arabic?"

"He says so, but I doubt it," Shane smiled, turning slightly toward his desk.

"As long as he keeps himself busy," Peter pushed himself from the divider, "My niece uses art."

"She... uses art?" Shane tilted his head.

"When she gets sad," Peter said simply.

"Oh, right," Shane nodded, though he was still confused.

"Well," Peter sighed, "Have a good day."

Shane nodded, watching the man walk away. And proceeded to do that.

He texted Ryan every other hour, checking in to see what he wanted to eat and if Shane needed to pick anything up. The answer was usually just "bring yourself," but Shane knew what he liked.

Every now and then, Shane would turn and look to Peter, curious about what he meant.


	17. Chapter 17

Ryan tapped his foot on the floor, staring into the cabinet with more remorse than he could handle on that particular day. He'd certainly gone soft, in some way. A weird, tired kind of soft.

He was in a haze. His eyelids were heavy and his hands were buzzing. He slept all night, eleven hours full of sleep, and he was still so exhausted. He was happy though. The promise that Shane would come home to him made him feel warm.

But that didn't fix his exhaustion.

Ryan reached into the shelves and grabbed a bag of Goldfish. He needed a snack. Being tired was tiring. He sighed and pulled himself onto the counter and dug his hand into the bag. He stared at the worn handles with a frown on his face.

He was stuck in a state of discomfort. His tongue was falling asleep from disuse, his ears were burning but he couldn't hear the blood sloshing around, his feet still ached from the burns and cuts from his mishap earlier in the week. Pain was a different sensation without the audio that came with it. It felt disingenuous and fake. Like his suffering (although small) was pointless.

There was nothing else to focus on, either. It was difficult to keep his mind on any one thing. No music to keep him on task, no efficient alarm to remind him to do things. There were apps and accessibility features, sure, but they were a hassle to set up and some of them seemed excessive and... he wasn't quite out of his stubborn mind set. He'd be damned if he had to download an app to make his life "easier." That wasn't how things were supposed to work.

Ryan huffed and shoved food into his mouth. A part of him was disappointed with the flavor--he had somewhat expected his sense of smell and taste to immediately heighten once he lost his hearing. But he supposed that wasn't the case.

Five minutes earlier, Shane entered the house with his bag over his shoulder and a wide smile on his face. He dropped his keys on the hook beside the door. He opened his mouth to yell his return, but he turned to see Ryan staring into the cabinet, his face screwed up in a frown.

Shane closed the door slowly and set his work bag under the side table. He watched as Ryan thought. His hands were hanging by his sides and he was standing at an angle, putting more pressure on his right foot because it didn't hurt as bad. He just looked tired.

He grabbed a snack and pulled himself up onto the kitchen island, grimacing at the pain of his feet, before shoving his hand into the bag. He seemed deep in thought, staring ahead, his back hunched and his spirit seeming to fade.

Shane couldn't bear to watch it any longer. He picked up his bag and made a big movement, an _I just got here, I'm closing the door in an exaggerated way_ movement.

Ryan turned and caught sight of the man. He smiled and set the bag to the side. He ran his hand turned out ('S') down his jaw, _Shane_ , before holding his arms out. Shane set his bag down for the second time and crossed the room as quickly as he could.


	18. Chapter 18

On the first day of the third month, Ryan began to dream.

After three months of dark and quiet, a few flashing lights, nothing major. Sleeping was like a sensory deprivation tank and it took him a few nights to get used to it and actually sleep. At the time, he couldn't update Shane on his drab dreams because he was still sleeping in his office, but eventually he got used to it.

It was much harder to contain his excited panic when Shane was sleeping right next to him.

He scrambled out of the covers and sat on top of Shane's chest, shaking his shoulders, doing everything to wake him up without actually screaming, which was a last resort he was willing to take.

"Ryan..." Shane groaned tiredly before opening his eyes and quickly moving to sit up, "Ry? Are you okay? What's happening? Baby, do we need to go to the ER?"

Ryan rolled his eyes and gently (maybe not so gently) hit his head. Shane grunted, his eyes wide and confused and slightly upset. The brunette frowned and ran his fist in a circular motion over his chest, _I'm sorry._

"It's okay. I just thought something happened," Shane said quietly.

Ryan pointed to himself and then to his brain, making little firework-like explosions with his hands. _I had a dream._

"You did?" Shane asked. He tried to push himself up on his elbows but Ryan was still perched there. "What was it about? You know you're naked, right?"

Ryan looked down at himself and made a face. _When did I get naked?_

"I don't know," Shane laughed. "Tell me about your dream."

Ryan paused for a long time before he frowned and shook his head. _I don't know how._

"Okay," Shane nodded.

Ryan ran his hands through his hair and Shane just watched him. This was certainly one of his favorite ways to wake up.

Ryan had an idea. He rolled off of Shane and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of bed.

"You're still naked," Shane said through a laugh, but Ryan didn't see him. He was too busy rushing out the door. Shane looked over to the clock. 3:00 am.

There was no reason to discourage Ryan, though. The differences between him now and him last month were striking and a bit dizzying. It seemed as though the shock had worn off and had taken off a few years of age as well.

He walked to the dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts for his boyfriend, stumbling on tired legs, following the sound of doors opening and closing and Ryan's random hums that Shane wasn't entirely sure he knew about. When he made it to the end of the hall, Ryan seemed to have gathered all the supplies he needed.

Every single blanket in the apartment was piled in the middle of the living room. Neutral tones. Bright reds and blues. Disney Princesses. Zig-zags and polka dots. What seemed to be the entirety of the color spectrum that humans could see, and then some. A mountain of blankets, most of which Shane had never seen before. It was glorious.

"Okay," Shane said, standing in front of Ryan (on the other side of the mountain) so that he could see him. He handed him the shorts. "What now?"

Ryan looked down at his bounty and reached his arms out, straight in front of him and pointed down. He splayed his fingers out and waved them wildly. _Now we spread 'em out._

Shane hadn't had that much fun in awhile. In low light, for hours, they threw colors on everything in sight. Clocks and picture frames were taken off walls, lamps were placed on the floor and set as light as possible.

It was a mess. A colorful, warm mess, though, and Shane understood why Ryan was so excited.

"It's beautiful," Shane said. "A fire hazard, sure. And definitely not something I would think to create at 3 in the morning... but it's beautiful."

Ryan nodded and rested his head on Shane's shoulder. He yawned.

They settled down in a nook of blankets. Shane removed the blanket that was obscuring the television. They rested their backs on the front of the couch and Ryan turned on his show.

"I love you," Shane said definitely. He wrapped both arms around Ryan and smushed his cheek against the top of his head.

 _I love you too,_ Ryan signed, shaking the symbol in the air over his head. Almost like he was silently yelling it.

Shane smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

He'd been thinking about it for awhile--seeing what was going on. He hadn't been back to the doctor since the accident, and he still hadn't gotten a clear explanation as to what happened. He was too terrified of the possible results to look it up.

WebMD had failed him before. And he hadn't gotten around to reading up on the effects of car crashes on the inner ear. For some reason.

Shane was working late one particular day, and although Ryan loved him, he wouldn't be much help in the waiting room. He was an Out Loud talker when he was stressed, and Ryan didn't want to look at magazines the whole time. And... should the news be bad, if Shane cried, he wouldn't be able to keep himself together.

After Shane left for work, Ryan stood in the middle of the living room with his phone in his hands. It was fully charged. Nothing was standing in his way. So he couldn't get himself out of it.

Ryan's first phone call in three months went like this:

_Ryan: H-hello._

_Secretary: Hi--_

_Ryan: I'm deaf so I can't hear anything you're saying. So sorry. But I... I, um, need to make an appointment with my doctor, Dr. Livingston. My name is Ryan Bergara. That's B-E-R-G-A-R-A, and any time is good for me. My doctor has my email on file. So just email me whatever time is good. T-thank you._

_Secretary (distantly): Do I... do I say anything?_

_Ryan: I'm really sorry. Thanks._

Ryan took a well deserved nap afterwards. He almost collapsed.

-

Waiting rooms were something that were unbearable without sound. He imagined that he could live happily without the heavy breathing and the rustling of magazines and the old lady at the check in counter talking for hours and... well, the sound of his name being called.

But he couldn't. It was unbearable both ways.

He kept his eyes locked on the door that the nurse would come out of, because he didn't want someone waving in front of his face like he was dumb. It took a lot of willpower not to look elsewhere. He was cold, he was tired, he was nervous. He regretted not telling Shane. He needed a warm hand to hold and someone to translate his little gestures.

But also--the cons. Ryan kept reminding himself to think about the cons.

Dr. Livingston was a tall woman with a pointed bob and skinny glasses. She had a generally slouched posture and she always stood when giving news. Which always made Ryan antsy.

First, she looked in his ears regularly. She didn't speak to him, but in his periphery, Ryan saw her scrunching her eyes.

He turned to look at her and stared at her lips, waiting.

"Are your ears sore at all?" She asked.

Ryan blinked a few times. He nodded.

"Okay. We need to do an MRI."

 _That seems like a bad sign,_ Ryan thought.

"No worries. There is just a bit of inflammation, and I want to make sure that it isn't the worst case scenario."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. He tried not to look too worried.

"Well, there are two things that could have happened. You were in an accident, correct?"

Ryan nodded again.

"Blunt force trauma is clearly evident. Two options from here are temporary hearing loss, and permanent hearing loss."

Ryan nodded. Again. Kept his lips sealed. If he opened them, he would probably cry.

Permanent hearing loss. That made things more real.

"Make sure you have no metal on your person. The nurse will be back with a gown."

Ryan made a face.

"Yes, you have to wear a gown."

Ryan sighed. The door clicked shut behind her.

He checked his phone. He still had hours before Shane would get home. He had time.

It would be okay.


	20. Chapter 20

When he was inside the machine, it was much less scary than when he was out. Inside, although cold and hard and unfamiliar, there was more hope that things would turn out okay. He was further away from results and his clothes were across the room and every part of him synonymous with his dilemma was far away.

And it hummed. He liked when things hummed--the vibration made him feel a bit closer to reality.

Once he was outside, and he put his clothes back on, and he was more of a human again, all there was left to do was wait. He wasn't great with waiting.

He needed Shane. Around noon, he texted him a pre-taken picture of the coffee maker and asked when he was going to get home. Shane answered almost immediately: _I'll be back around 5_

Ryan tucked his phone into his pocket. The doctor returned with a clipboard and some paper and her glasses low on her nose and her eyebrows heavy.

"Ryan, can you tell me more about your accident?"

Ryan paused.

"You can talk out loud, I won't judge you. Or, write it down on this notebook."

Ryan held his hand out. He took the book and the pen and began to scribble.

He handed it back to her after a few moments. It read:

_I was in the driver's seat. I was on the phone with Shane. Then the car hit me from the back, the car fell off the road. Then I was in the passenger seat. And then I woke up in the hospital._

The doctor nodded as she read, "And how far did the car fall?"

Ryan's eyebrows raised and he held his arms out. _Really far._

"Okay," she nodded and typed something into her laptop. "Did you lose your hearing immediately?"

Ryan shook his head.

"But quickly, correct? And you lost consciousness soon after, because you woke up in the hospital."

Ryan nodded.

The doctor sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Your ossicles, the little bones in your ear that amplify sound, are damaged beyond easy repair."

Ryan grimaced.

"Any surgeries from this point on would have to completely replace them, and technology is advancing, but it isn't completely foolproof."

Ryan nodded.

"Surgeries would be risky."

Ryan was sobbing on the inside.

"Here are some pamphlets for the different procedures," she placed them gently into Ryan's hands. "I'll let you sleep on it. Email me with your decision."

She stood and turned to the door.

"If I did get it," Ryan said out loud, his voice shaky, "What is the probability that I would end up worse than I started?"

She thought for a moment, looking at him. "The surgeries that you would need are... extensive. It's likely that there would be complications."

"Okay," Ryan said. "Then I don't want it."

"You don't want to--"

"No, thank you."

Maybe Shane wasn't a fan of Ryan's disability, but he really wouldn't like Ryan to be dead.

He stepped onto the city bus with a feeling he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. Somewhat of a bitter pride that settled underneath his stomach.


	21. Chapter 21

_When Shane met Ryan for the first time, they were moving in opposite directions. Ryan had one arm through the right sleeve and was maneuvering his other arm through the other sleeve, clearly upset but channeling it into a form of faux confidence. The clamor of the building behind him quieted once the doors swung shut. He was stumbling--his shoes were too tight for his feet and his resolve was wearing thin. It was about 30 minutes until the next bus came but he was willing to call a cab, even if it killed him. He just wanted to get back to the apartment and lay down._

_Shane was wearing a baby blue polo shirt and jeans. He was getting dragged by his friend Thomas toward the doors. He was groaning, talking about work tomorrow and how he was tired and he didn't want to deal with this tonight. Thomas just shook his head and kept pulling him toward the bar._

_Shane saw Ryan first. He was hard to miss, angry and attractive (a wonderful pair) and intriguing. Shane, however, was very plain and very easy to miss, no matter how tall he was._

_But Ryan didn't. He sent a small smile as he passed and gave him a shy wave. The confidence was almost stalled by the sight of Shane, who smiled back immediately._

_As Ryan passed, Shane stopped in his tracks and turned to watch him walk away. Thomas groaned and kept tugging, but Shane was unmovable. He kind of wanted to see what kind of car Ryan had. Probably a really expensive one. He looked like someone important._

_"I'm gonna go in," Thomas said, annoyed. "Come in whenever."_

_"Will do," Shane nodded dismissively. The noise of the bar increased and then became muffled as the door closed. He felt creepy. He wasn't one to stare at people, but Ryan was a sight for sore eyes._

_Ryan pulled his phone out from his pocket and began to call an Uber. He looked behind him to see if the Polo Shirt guy was still there, and he was, looking like a lost puppy and a deer in the headlights all at once._

_Ryan waved to him again before opening the Uber app._

_Shane waved back with a confused look on his face. He wondered if he could ask if Ryan was okay, but that would be weird. So he didn't._

_A long black car pulled up eventually. Shane almost died--it really seemed as though Ryan was a celebrity. Ryan gave him one last look over the shoulder before disappearing into the back of the black car. Shane stood there for a long time after he left, but was later dragged in by Thomas, who had a new woman on his arm and a bar stool with Shane's name on it._

_The next time Shane met Ryan, they were going opposite directions._

_Shane was walking out of a bank and turning right onto Somerset. Ryan was leaving a coffee shop with a very stylish-looking friend and turning left onto Somerset._

_Ryan's friend was talking his ear off about "last night" with "this girl." Ryan had glasses on and a shirt that was too big for him. He looked exhausted._

_Shane was wearing a button-up and black pants. He looked less preppy but the awkward, business energy was still there. He had a few paper-clipped applications in his hand, and he looked very put together. Ryan almost didn't recognize him._

_They gave each other a gentle, mutual nod as they walked past. Before he got out of earshot, Shane heard Ryan's friend go "who was that?" Shane's face broke into a grin._

_The first time they met as themselves was at Thomas's house._

_On the first night that Ryan and Shane saw each other outside the bar, Thomas entered the bar alone to find a posse of very stylish individuals. He took a liking to one of them, and they began dating. And then they got engaged. And there was an engagement party._

_Shane wore a graphic t-shirt. Ryan wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt. And his glasses. He had a champagne glass full of water._

_Shane saw him first. Ryan's eyes were down and he was standing against the wall. Thomas and Candice were nowhere in sight. Just a sea of incredibly stylish people and incredibly bland people with champagne. And in the middle were Ryan and Shane._

_"Hey," Shane said, just loud enough to be heard over the chatter._

_Ryan looked up, confused, but his face softened into a smile. "Hey! Polo shirt."_

_"Oof," Shane shook his head, "That's a terrible first impression. I'm so sorry."_

_"It's alright. I remembered you," Ryan shrugged._

_"What's your name?" Shane asked, taking a short step forward to let some people pass._

_"Ryan."_

_"I'm Shane." He wondered if he should hold his hand out for a handshake._

_"Nice to meet you, Shane." Ryan looked around. "Do you want to get out of here?"_

_"I--"_

_"The roof is pretty cool."_

_Shane looked for Thomas but shook his head. "Sure."_


	22. Chapter 22

Ryan stumbled off the city bus and rushed up the stairs to his apartment, reaching into his pocket with shaky hands to grab his keys. It was four o'clock and Shane would be home any second. Paperwork took much longer than he anticipated and even then--he didn't have all of the information. Shane had the majority of his medical records because Ryan wasn't responsible enough to care for them.

He ran into the house and slammed the door, locking both locks and kicking his shoes off in different directions.

Before Shane came home, he had to shower and scrub the doctor's office smell of him. Shane had bought him this new shower gel stuff that sank into his pores and basically bleached the outer layer of his skin. That would work.

This terrible way of living was officially his forever. That was the worst case scenario that he dreaded, and he was almost bitterly glad that he got it over with. Well, it wasn't the worst case scenario just yet. Shane hadn't come home yet.

Ryan was confident in his poker face. He hadn't cried as much as he thought he would--he had anticipated the worst anyway. He'd lived in complete silence for enough time that it wasn't so much of a surprise anymore.

Maybe he was just trying to convince himself everything was fine. If that was the case, sure, everything would be fine.

He brushed his teeth and brushed his hair and pat his face with a cold washcloth, made it seem like he was somewhat together, not making an effort to feel okay. When Shane got home, he would smile and hug him and ask what he wanted to watch on TV.

Permanent Hearing Loss.

Everything was going to be fine.

Unfixable.

Yeah. He was okay.

-

Ryan had never held onto a secret like this, especially not from Shane. He wasn't even sure if he could categorize it as a secret. It was more of an Important Piece of Information that Ryan Didn't Want To Disclose Because It Made Him Upset to Think About. So, he was in a constant state of stress.

It was constant rationalization. But he didn't like the thought of actually having to say it or acknowledge it was there. This was a theme in his life. It was nothing new. But often he would rationalize watching his show or buying a shirt. Nothing that was this intense.

The theme of stubbornness still existed. This was just a different kind.

It was like he'd closed a lot of doors and locked them. He shoved his doctor's visit in the one beside the kitchen, he shoved the permanent nature of his dilemma into the one beside his closet. He shoved the fact that this was irrational down the flight of stairs outside his door and told it to STAY OUT. But he knew it would come knocking in a few hours. His eyes hurt, his ears hurt, but nothing was certain.

He didn't know what would happen if he told Shane, his best friend in the world, and that was the worst part. If Shane converted back to Smoke-Alarm Crazy, he couldn't take it. He didn't want to be smothered - not again.

It was all so overwhelming. Ryan took a nap, his skin warm and raw from the scrubbing. By the time he woke up, Shane was home, humming to himself (bouncing up and down) and making dinner. Ryan kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing.  
  
Everything was going to be fine, Ryan said to himself inside his worried head. When the question came up, the question would come up. Everything was going to be fine.


	23. Chapter 23

Something changed in Ryan. Like a switch was flipped when Shane was at work, or he'd missed the signs, and he had been shoved into cold water and there wasn't a life raft in sight.

When he came home, Ryan was asleep on the sofa. There wasn't much more to observe or notice. It was semi-dark, the dimmer of two lamps on. He laid uncomfortably in boxers and a long-sleeve t-shirt that was falling off of one shoulder. Shane wasn't one to stare - and certainly not one to lean in and kiss someone on the cheek while they were sleeping. This was real life - that was weird.

So he set his bag and coat down and started making dinner.

There was a bit of dread in his chest, though. No amount of distraction or food could take that away. He knew that.

Ryan was changing. So much change was expected by deafness, but they'd made it through the main conflict. It should be over with, by now. They'd had the break, they'd made it through. They made a blanket fort! It was as close to bliss as they'd been in a long time, but what was the issue now?

He made Ryan's favorite soup because it was simple and because Ryan liked it enough to crave it on off days.

Shane tried to do as much work as he could while Ryan slept, but it was too difficult. When Ryan woke up, Shane was sitting beside him on the floor, his elbow propped up on the arm of the couch and his eyes full of worry.

_Wha...?_ Ryan raised an eyebrow, both eyes half-closed.

"What's wrong?" Shane asked, immediately. "You're acting strangely and I don't want us to go away again."

Ryan blinked a few times. Shane was so thoughtful; he'd noticed this so early. Ryan felt lucky. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. _Nothing._

Shane frowned. "Please."

"It's fine," Ryan said, his voice raspy. "I'm fine."

Shane wasn't convinced but Ryan kissed him on the cheek and he let some of the tension in his shoulders go. "I made soup and the little bread-things you like."

Ryan nodded and pointed to his nose. _I can smell._ He nodded. _Smells good._

"Thanks."

They stared at each other for awhile. Ryan seemed so tired. Shane seemed so worried. They were both surprised at the image of each other. The bliss of reunion was like heavy wool over their eyes and they had to be sure to yank it away sometimes. It wouldn't be easy to hide from each other ever again.

Shane pushed himself to his feet after kissing Ryan's head. He held his hands out, "Are you hungry now?"

Ryan nodded and grasped Shane's hands, groaning as he was pulled to his feet. _Yeah._ He pointed to his head and grimaced. _Head hurts_. He pointed to the bathroom. _Can you grab some ibuprofen?_  
  
"Sure." Shane practically jumped over the arm of the couch, running and disappearing into the room. Ryan's eyebrows were raised high, surprised, before he relaxed and smiled. Everything is going to be okay.

Shane returned with a small cup of water and a white pill in his hand. Ryan nodded at him and pointed to his mouth, bringing his fingers outward, before hiking his thumb over his shoulder.

Shane smiled. Thank you, he signed.


	24. Chapter 24

Shane sat across from Ryan at the table, his hands folded and arms circling the half-empty plate in front of him. He wanted to see Ryan, whenever he wanted to start talking. Or signing, it didn't matter. They needed to tend to whatever was going on before it got out of hand.

Ryan was eating as slowly as he could. 42 seconds of chewing for each bite. As long as food was in his mouth and his fork was in his hand, he couldn't speak or sign. Shane kept staring at him expectantly with his hands acting like a basket for everything that was going on in his head. But Ryan had no intention of giving him that.

"How is it?"

Ryan nodded and stuffed his cheeks full. His eyes were wide; he was clearly panicking. It was the worst attempt to console someone Shane had ever seen.

"Ryan, please..." Shane pinched an edge of the plate and pulled it away from Ryan. "Talk to me."

Ryan shook his head. _Don't want to._

Shane frowned. "What happened? Since I left this morning? Did someone... like, say something to you?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. _I don't talk to anyone else._

Shane nodded and shrugged, "Good point."

Ryan sighed. And swallowed the food in his mouth. And thought for a moment. Shane saw the change of mood on his face and leaned back a bit.

Surely, Shane didn't have to find out right now. The entirety of his stress didn't matter because no matter how much he stressed, he was still going to be permanently deaf. Permanently useless. But that was perfectly fine! As long as Shane didn't know. Because it would stress him out more.

But everything was truly fine. For some reason, relief brushed its fingers through his hair.

Ryan began to laugh. Shane leaned back even more.

He shook his head. _Sorry._ He pointed to his head, still chuckling, and shook his head even more. _I'm just... y'know. Crazy._ Ryan sighed and pulled his plate back before crossing his fingers over his heart briefly. _Love you._

"...Love you too..." Shane said carefully. "Are you sure you're okay? We can go to the doctor or something, if you think your brain's doing something kooky."

Ryan stuffed his mouth full and made a face. _Nope. All good._

"Alright, well." Shane kept his eyes on Ryan. "... Ya know. I just want what's best for you, Ry."

Ryan nodded, but all of his organs cringed inside of his body. That was such a guttural phrase. Nothing was going to be best for anyone, anymore. But it was fine.

"Also, I think I've saved enough money up to... uh, talk to you about something."

Ryan looked up through his eyelashes and placed his fork down. He hummed questioningly.

"So, I've had a separate saving account that I haven't told you about because I didn't want to not make enough money, but with the new job and all... anyway, yeah, I have enough money now to afford cochlear implants for you."

Ryan hissed and stood. Shane grasped the edge of the table, trying to prepare for the incoming outrage. Ryan climbed into Shane's lap and pressed his forehead to the latter's.

"That's not going to work," he said shakily with an unconvincing smile on his face.

"Did you do research?" Shane asked, wincing.

"No, but I... already went to the doctor?" It came out as a question. R-sounds still caught on his tongue.

"By yourself?" Shane let his hands fall to Ryan's hips, his face screwed up in concern. "Did you get hurt?"

"No."

Shane blinked.

"I'm permanently deaf. My brain is permanently damaged. Can't hear ever again," Ryan said, a rush of breath, before adding, "I love you."

Shane stared at him. His eyes were watery, but he was keeping them open. As if a tear or two was going to be a sign of weakness. "So..."

Ryan just patted his hair down.

"Is that what you were going to..."

Ryan nodded. Shane pressed his lips together but slowly nodded.

"Well," Shane tapped his fingers on Ryan's waist, "Do you... wanna buy a new bed with the money, then?"

Ryan bit his lip and let out a sad laugh. "We should get a better alarm clock that doesn't make noise." A silent tear fell from Shane's eye and Ryan wiped it away.

"Right. We can do that." Shane buried his nose into Ryan's neck, kissing the skin there, shaking with sobs that he was keeping in. He started to speak, but stopped and pulled himself away. He made eye contact, "I didn't... I wasn't trying to 'fix' you, Ryan. You're perfect any way I can get you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, but it still sucks."

"Maybe. We need to set up your phone's assistant stuff, though. No more procrastinating."

Ryan whined and shook his head. He signed O-L-D with his fingers before making an X with his arms. _I'm not old._

"You're pretty old," Shane shrugged. Ryan hit his shoulder. Shane's eyes softened, "It'll make things easier for you. Old or not."

"This isn't s-supposed to be easy," Ryan's voice was caught.

"That makes no sense," Shane replied. "Of course it is."

Ryan just turned around and grabbed his plate. Shane rested his forehead on Ryan's shoulder as he ate, arms permanently wrapped around Ryan's waist.


	25. Chapter 25

Shane had spent the entire night looking for things Ryan might be interested in. He called off from work the next day, explaining Ryan's recent diagnosis and requesting a day to look at options for moving forward. His boss was ecstatic.

"Send my condolences to Ryan and take all the time you need," the voice came over the phone and relief rushed through Shane's veins. She wasn't mean, but it was a gamble.

"Thank you so much," Shane closed out of a few tabs, smothering a yawn behind his hand. "Means a lot."

"No worries. Just as well, if Ryan wouldn't be opposed, a video on Ryan and your own experience would be wonderful. We are broadening our horizons beyond styling and life hack videos."

Shane grimaced. "Ummm, maybe another time. I can talk to Ryan about it, but it's all still very new."

"Yes, yes. Of course."

When the call ended, Shane was back to it. Copying links and pasting them into spreadsheets, making quick work of possible finances, pros and cons. Ryan was allowing him to do his 'nerdy, overbearing stuff,' so he was going to take this one chance and run with it.

When Ryan woke up at 5:30 alone, he rolled out of bed with a speck of worry in his chest. There was no time for that speck to blow out of proportion, because as soon as he stepped up to the door frame, he spotted Shane in the living room on his laptop, his head lulled back against the couch, eyes drooping but still focused on the bright screen.

"Shane," Ryan spoke out loud to get the man's attention. Shane sprung to life, lifting his head and smiling at the man in the doorway.

"Hey, good morning!" His words were slurred, most likely, as it was difficult to make the words out. But Shane was a predictable guy.

Ryan gave a tired wave, pointing to the kitchen. _Coffee?_

"Yes. But I can get it. Hold on, let me - " Shane bent forward, grabbing the bottom edge of the couch to pull himself up. Ryan could imagine, even faintly hear, the noise of Shane groaning. It was comforting.

Ryan was pulled from a faint memory as he felt the warmth of Shane's hand in his. He looked up. Shane looked hot, but in an unhealthy way.

"You should sleep," Ryan mouthed.

"Eh," Shane shrugged. He squeezed his hand. "Have to find only the best products for my boy."

Ryan rolled his eyes, his cheeks brightening. _You're weird._

"Lemme make coffees."

Ryan followed behind Shane, unable to keep his hands to himself. He slid his arms under Shane's shirt, around his waist, humming at the warmth of his skin (probably from his laptop being rested against his shirt for a better part of the night).

Shane turned his head for Ryan to see as he said, "Handsy."

"All mine," Ryan patted his stomach before receding, pulling himself up onto the counter. He let the backs of his heel hit the cabinets underneath, probably making arrhythmic noises, but it didn't seem to bother Shane much.

Shane filled the machine with lukewarm water from the sink, pulling a filter from a drawer to his right. He pivoted on his heel, smiling at Ryan. "I love you."

Ryan grimaced. "Gross."

"I'm gonna spit in your coffee."

"You've spit in worse places."

"I like when you talk," Shane said, a bit offbeat from the rest of the conversation, but it made Ryan's stomach flutter.

"I'll make sure to n-not do that, then." Ryan said, fake-zipping up his mouth.

Shane crossed the kitchen and kissed Ryan's cheek before walking right back. Ryan rolled his eyes, folding his legs over each other.

"You know," Ryan said slowly, "I remember."

Shane slid the pitcher underneath the spicket. He leaned on his own side, "Remember what, Ry?"

"You. Your-r voic-ce."

Shane stilled. "You do?"

Ryan closed his mouth and nodded.

"What... do you remember? About it? I guess?" Shane's hands twitched at his sides, silently wondering if he should hold Ryan or keep his distance.

Ryan pointed at him, then to his ears, pushing his hands together and mimicking a crash. _You were the last voice I heard._

Shane blinked and tears were present. "Oh, Ryan."

"I love you," Ryan said.

"Oh, _Ryan_ ," Shane crossed the room for the second time in five minutes, pulling Ryan up into his arms, his shoulders shaking. Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane's neck, smiling as he felt those familiar rumbling vibrations in Shane's chest. "I love you so much."

"I don't want you to leave me," Ryan said in a burst of vulnerability that racked his bones, "You're all I can hear."

Shane pulled his nose from Ryan's neck, looking at him with red eyes. "Ryan, you're wrecking me. In a good way."

Ryan threw a few slow-motion punches before burying his fingers in Shane's hair. Shane kissed his cheek, letting out a shaky breath before setting Ryan back down on his perch, wiping his eyes with the collar of his t-shirt.

"Fuck," Shane said, laughing. "I'm a mess."

"A good one," Ryan agreed.

Shane stood, smiling at Ryan, before jumping and running across the kitchen. "Coffee! Right."


	26. Chapter 26

Ryan found himself on Google, his phone brightness as dim as he could possibly get it, though it still burned his retinas. Shane's head was on his chest, arms around him lazily as he dozed. Ryan felt comfortable as he'd ever be, but he was restless nonetheless.

After nearly 48 hours of constant research on Shane's part, the tall man finally fell asleep with a few illegible words (most likely some sort of excuse to stay awake) on Ryan's body. Ryan wasn't complaining; it had been much too long since he'd been able to see the top of Shane's head. It was uncharted territory. Ryan carded the fingers of his free hand through the tangled hair as he squinted at his screen.

He was down a rabbit hole of Worst Deaf-Hearing Relationship Stories and it was frankly eye-opening. Apparently, a lot of hearing partners were too stubborn to sign, or hearing partners who considered their relationship to be "too difficult," or something. He couldn't help but cringe at every insult or every clear lack of effort that he read, trying to think of any time Shane had treated him so badly. He came up empty.

Because he and Shane were good. Safe.

Ryan couldn't stop himself from reading nearly ten more awful articles about miscommunication and abuse before he shut his phone off and tossed it across the room. Shane jumped as it clattered against the floor, but he snored himself back into REM sleep. Ryan loosely wrapped his arms around Shane's neck, letting his head fall back against the pillow with a sigh. Certainly, he was lucky.

Then that second part of him, his own voice (the angry one he remembers, from the car before he lost himself, the one that nearly lost Shane), piped up in the dark with a sneer.

_Shane isn't_ , it said. 


	27. Chapter 27

"Good morning, sunshine," Shane said as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He took his hands away and tilted his head sleepily at Ryan, who stood at the Special Oven that Shane had installed nearly six months earlier. The stove top wasn't anything spectacular, but he'd installed the app that would vibrate when the oven timer would go off. He'd have to use that soon. Shane was getting antsy about it.

"Morning," Ryan said, his voice feeling quite gravelly in the back of his throat. He held his arms out and Shane inserted himself between them with a sly smile. "What's that for?"

"I like this," Shane moved himself around in Ryan's embrace, "Missed this part of you."

"What?"

"The clingy Ryan," Shane dipped his head down and kissed Ryan's jaw. He raised his right hand, his thumb bouncing against his chin and his fingers pointing to the sky. _Beautiful._

Ryan wished he hadn't blushed. He pushed Shane away, but Shane just returned in front of him, closer than before. "You're gross."

"Yeah, but you're making breakfast," Shane said, looking over his head, "Looks nice."

Ryan shrugged. He brushed his hand through his hair and pointed to the coffee maker. _Figured you'd need more than coffee to wake you up._

"Very sweet of you, Ry. You would be correct," Shane kissed Ryan again, long but not long enough, before crossing to the coffee maker. He turned his head for Ryan to see, "You want?"

Ryan nodded. He tapped his wrist. _I was waiting for you._

Shane clutched at his heart through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, "Domestic bliss."

"I guess," Ryan turned back to the stove. He reached forward to turn off the burners. "Don't let it get to your head."

Shane rested his chin on Ryan's shoulder, one hand on Ryan's warm hip, the other clutching his mug. "I love you," he said, his chest pressed against Ryan's back for him to feel.

Ryan smiled and pointed to the cabinets. _Get plates, idiot._


	28. Chapter 28

"How do you know what I'm saying when I don't speak?"

It had been gnawing at Ryan for hours, now. That little voice of his saying there had to be some reason why all those articles he read were different than his relationship with Shane. How was it, of all the shitty couples bent against each other due to some shitty communication problems, that he'd gotten lucky? There had to be something.

That morning, he and Shane had sat on the couch for hours, wordlessly watching Ryan's show (which, apparently would be cancelled soon, and Ryan was devastated) with limbs comfortably sprawled across the cushions. Shane dismissed himself with a kiss and a wink, saying he'd return for lunch, and Ryan let him go. But he couldn't let IT go.

Shane looked up from his computer, eyes wide. "Oh. Hey, Ry. What's up?"

"How?" Ryan was one step away from literally putting his foot down. His arms were at his sides in quite the aggressive stance, and Shane was unsure if he should be quaking in his boots. He wasn't. He just stared up at Ryan, the gears in his mind clearly cranking away and trying to formulate a game plan.

"Do you think... maybe..." Shane stood, pushing his chair under his desk and gesturing to the room full of people around them, "...maybe, we should go somewhere else? To talk about this? Go out to lunch?"

Ryan squinted at him. He took a deep breath through his nose and shook his head. _I'm not mad..._

"Yeah, but still. I can take an earlier lunch, if you need?" Shane offered and Ryan wanted to hit him, but in a nice way.

"I just..." Ryan buried his face in his hands. "Yeah. Let's go to lunch."

Peter peeked over the divider and raised his eyebrows at Shane, "Is this Ryan?"

Shane looked at him and nodded once, his face still sporting a very concerned boyfriend face, "Yeah."

Ryan looked where Shane was looking. He uncrossed his arms to send an unenthusiastic wave. _Hello?_

Shane tapped his shoulder, "Ryan, this is Peter."

Ryan glanced back and held out a hand, "Nice to meet you."

"You as well. Shane's told me all about you."

"He has?" Ryan asked, though he wasn't quite as surprised as he let on.

Peter nodded once and gestured to the two of them, "I'll be going now. The north conference room is open for a few hours if you need to talk it out in there."

"No, we're fine," Shane took Ryan's hand with a smile. "Just taking an early lunch."

"I'll tell her," Peter said, throwing them a thumbs up (once again, very odd) and disappearing from the top of the divider.


	29. Chapter 29

 "It isn't hard," Shane said finally, after a long 15 minutes of ordering and eating and silence. "To understand you. You make it easy."

"The thing is? I don't." Ryan shook his head, moving his straw around. It was probably screeching, but Shane didn't bat an eyelash. "See? Isn't this annoying?"

"I don't know? I'm fine," Shane offered. "But I can, like, throw a fit if you need."

"Don't," Ryan stopped. His hands fell to his lap, "There are so many people whose relationships don't work out, and we're just fine."

"... Yes," Shane shifted in his seat. "We are. Aren't we?"

"We are, that's why I'm concerned," Ryan sighed, closing his mouth. He pointed to his mouth, then to Shane, to his ears. _Our communication is good._ He tapped his forehead with his fingers, bringing his hand out and down. _Why?_

 _I know ASL,_ Shane signed quickly, before taking a deep breath in and out of his mouth. He spoke, "But I also know you well. We're pretty similar. You've got your own kinda language, and I'm pretty fluent in it."

Ryan looked out the window for a moment, searching for words. Shane leaned into his periphery, face twisted into a frown.

"Was that not good?"

"No, it was good," Ryan assured him.

"Okay," Shane seemed content.

"But," Ryan muttered, holding up a finger, "I've got to... at least... bother? You? Right?"

"No, of course not," Shane took Ryan's hand from the air, holding it between his palms. "Why do you ask that?"

"I was doing some reading - "

"Oh, boy."

" - and there are a lot of people who have to break it off because they're..." Ryan cleared his throat, his mouth unable to form legible words anymore. He made a cross with his arms and pointed to his mouth. _Not good at talking._ He pointed to his ear. _Because they're deaf._

"Ryan, there are so many relationships in the world," Shane smiled, giving Ryan's hand an odd but comforting pat. "Some of them are going to fail. We're not going to break up just because you can't hear. That's ridiculous."

Ryan shrugged. _Maybe_. He pointed between them. _We've failed before._

"Yeah, but I learned from my mistakes."

"I made some mistakes," Ryan said, hand tense in defence.

"Did you learn from them?"

"Of course," Ryan's voice was raw.

"Then no worries," Shane let Ryan go, but Ryan stayed in the dip of his palm. He squeezed, "I love you. I don't care if we take a million more breaks, I'm still gonna be here."

"Yeah?"

"But don't get any ideas," Shane gave an accusatory point, though his elbow slipped off the table and landed in his lap. "Ow."

Ryan applauded, quietly.

Shane stuck his tongue out and pointed to the menu. "Ice cream?"


	30. Chapter 30

Ryan could feel the rumble of progress underneath his feet.

Shane gave him a few positive pats on his leg as he carefully turned into the parking lot. His fingers were tight on the textured plastic, feet locked in place to avoid any slip ups or passed white lines. He was careful and as precise as he could be. He could vaguely imagine Shane's voice forming praise in the back of his head, and it was keeping him back from the edge of a breakdown.

Ryan coasted into a a parking spot, right in front of their complex, checking to see that he was inside the lines, before he pulled the key out of ignition. He let out a long breath he must have been holding for awhile.

"Great job," he could see Shane murmur before he unclipped his belt. "You're doing perfect. Nearly ready to go on the road?"

"Maybe," Ryan said, voice shaking. "Maybe a few more years."

"C'mon now." Shane opened his door, glancing back and pulling Ryan's hands from the steering wheel. "I'd say days. You're a beast behind the wheel."

"Maybe," Ryan repeated. Shane dropped it, holding his hand into the building (until of course, he had to hold the door).

"You know," Shane said, dragging Ryan into the elevator because the stairs seemed too steep for that day. Ryan stumbled inside, his back against Shane's chest. He craned his neck to read Shane's lips, "I'm very proud of you."

"Stop," Ryan said, turning away. Shane took hold of Ryan's chin and made him look again, "This is very... movie of you, Shane."

"Felt right," Shane shrugged, letting his hand fall. "But I am proud of you."

"Thank you," Ryan whispered. He felt the elevator jolt and saw the doors slide open in the corner of his eye. "I love you."

"I love you!" Shane said, grasping Ryan's hand and pulling him from the elevator and down the hall. He moved his head to the side for Ryan to see, "Can't believe you drove today, Ry. Big steps."

Ryan's face was hot, "Only did it because you pressured me."

"Yes, but with the upmost love and affection," Shane stopped in front of their door, fishing his keys from his pocket. Ryan handed his over, and Shane smiled. "I'll back off for awhile, but you were flawless, as always."

Ryan just smiled and followed Shane inside.

Progress was fun when he could do it with someone else. Someone else that made him progress. It was healthy.

"I think I wanna get a job again," Ryan said quietly, hours later, still feeling the rush of excitement and hope from earlier that day. 

Shane looked over at him, his arm behind Ryan's head and his legs spread out over the covers. "You do?"

"Yeah," Ryan chewed on his lip. "I mean. It's n-not fair, to you. If I'm just sitting here all day, doin' nothing."

"I think it's incredibly fair," Shane moved to sit up, adjusting himself so he could lean on his elbow, looking between Ryan's eyes to search for something deeper. "But if you want to have something to do during the day, we could come up with something."

"I want to be a breadwinner," Ryan said and Shane raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Shane said, thinking. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am." Ryan said, "I'm getting better at... at talking, and reading lips. And I'm getting better at driving."

"But if you get a job with me, we could carpool," Shane offered and Ryan smiled at the idea of a synchronized morning routine, the domesticity of driving to work together, holding the door... "If you want that, you know. You haven't told me what kind of job you want, so I might be jumping the gun a bit, but - "

Ryan kissed him slow, just a bit too short to be engaging but long enough to make Shane's brain fuzzy, "I do want that. Very much, please."

"I can call later," Shane said, his face red and his eyes glimmering. "I'm so incredibly proud."

"You're embarrassing me," Ryan covered his face with his hands. "You're always so embarrassing."

Shane pressed his lips to the backs of Ryan's fingers, "But I love you."

Ryan grinned and peered out, meeting Shane's eyes, and his emotion welled up in his throat uninvited. He felt safe.

"I don't care if you're embarrassed," Shane said, brushing his thumb under Ryan's eye as an accidental tear escaped. "I refuse to stop telling you how I feel about you."

Ryan reached out, placing the fingers of his right hand to Shane's mouth, moving them into his other palm. _Good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so, so much for reading!!!!!
> 
> this was a wild ride, and i thank you for making it this far.


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